


Prayers heard

by Oneroika_Lunae



Category: Merry Gentry - Laurell K Hamilton
Genre: Andais doesn't know what she is missing, Doyle does, Doyle is very patient, F/M, Her loss His gain, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneroika_Lunae/pseuds/Oneroika_Lunae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle has prayed many a day to finally get his love. This is a short resume of how that happened. </p><p>His opinions during Frost's liasson with Andais, and when Merry cames along. Happy Ending</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayers heard

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Gentry has few fics, so I'm planning to write a few. This series are one of my favourites, and of course Doyle and Frost are such a canon pairing they were a must. Please, read, enjoy and comment. 
> 
> Your commentaries inspire me and help me get better at writting
> 
> sorry for butchering the english language, in my defence, it is not my native tongue. 
> 
> un-betaed.

Silver hair shining in the dark, it’s glow melting with the glow of her skin in the walls of the room. And Doyle, as always, stays alert by the bed, ready to protect the one he loves. Andais held that position, long, long ago, but destroyed all the affection Doyle had for her with her cruelty and sadism. The newest addition to the guard was entwined on the satin sheets with their queen, his magnificent body moving in a rhythm older than time. The muscles under de skin could be seen with each movement, the glow enticing and hypnotic. Doyle loved, and wanted, and kept watch over them as they danced on the bed. 

 

Doyle waited, until the inevitable came, and she tired of him and throw him away as he was nothing (even if he was everything, She just was too blind to see him as he really was, as Doyle saw him) . And He saw the ice in those eyes become harder than diamond, and the arrogant mask cover the sweet innocence and the raw emotions of his face, Doyle watched, stayed silent as young Jack Frost became The Killing Frost. And he loved him, and wanted, and wished, and prayed to the goddess that he may notice him, even if he wouldn’t be worthy of such attention.  
They became friends, after a time, when He proved to all that he was one of their best warriors, even if his blood wasn’t pure, even if, long ago, he was nothing but a little winter spirit who danced on the wind during the cold season. Doyle knew what Frost wanted to prove. He had been in his position before he became The Darkness. They friendship was like ice, son thin, so fragile at first, that Doyle feared a light breeze might destroy everything.

 

They endured. Together, always together. Doyle endured this torture, more cruel than any of his queen’s punishments, to have him so close at his side without being able to touch him, to comfort him, to hold him in his arms and never let go.  
And then, then Meredith came, a vessel of the goddess, and Doyle found his prayers were answered. He loves Meredith, how could he not love her? She freed them from Andais, She took them away from that place of horrors and pain. And She gave him Frost.  
Oh, he had to share him, of course. With Meredith, because Frost loved her pale flesh and fiery hair. He shared with him her bed when timetables required to be so. 

 

And the first time he touched his white skin, oh, how he trembled, how he feared he would reject him now, favoring Meredith, destroying his heart and his hopes.

But that glorious moment, Frost looked at his hand and then right into his eyes, and they shared a caress, a kiss, a lover. That night so perfect Doyle would have died that very moment without regrets. 

After that night come many more, and when Meredith’s lovers grew in numbers, they expend their lonely nights with each other, laying entwined in bed, exploring each other’s bodies with hungry lips and greedy hands. 

And hearing his name in Frost’s voice, generally so measured, so composed, broken by the pleasure Doyle gave him brought him a new kind of joy he never thought he would felt. 

The day comes, when they held their children in their arms, children that are part Doyle and part Frost ( and Meredith, and the others) that Frost confesses, his voice a whisper, his feelings for Doyle. 

The love he hopelessly harbored for his captain, and Doyle, for the first time in Centuries. Cries.

He has his lover, and his children, and his people.

They are safe, they are happy. 

And Doyle will keep them so. Whatever it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats, you reached the end!!!
> 
> Thank you for Reading my work, please leave a comment and take a look at my other Works.
> 
> Love you all
> 
> Luna


End file.
